


Full of Sound and Fury Signifying Nothing

by Akigriffin



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Modern AU, Slow Burn, eating problems, if I can
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2018-12-19 13:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11899167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akigriffin/pseuds/Akigriffin
Summary: Jack's new foster brother is a mystery wrapped in an enigma, with a cat. Race could really use a break from his home life. Everyone is an asshole. [discontinued]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title thanks to Aleida.

No one in the group knew of Jack’s new foster brother until he’d already been placed there nearly two months. He had kept them all away with every excuse he could think of. He wanted to keep them separate as long as he could.

A number of Jack’s friends sat around their usual lunch table one spring morning when Romeo practically started begging Jack to let them come over. 

“Come on,” he whined. “Medda makes the best movie night snacks!”

“It is past your time to host,” Mush pointed out.

“I can’t.” Jack hesitated. “I’ve got a new brother. He ain’t so good with strangers.”

“Wait!” Elmer said, eyes lighting up. “Youse got a new brother and we ain’t even met him? How long have you been keeping this from us?”

“Two months? Maybe three? I told ya, he’s not good with new people. He’s all jittery and shit.”

Elmer, curious and friendly as ever, started looking around the cafeteria for the boy. 

“Elmer! Come on. He’s not here or I would’a introduced you.”

“Where is he, then?” asked Ike as he pushed his sleeping twin off his shoulder. “Drool on someone else,” he grumbled .

Mike muttered something then pillowed his head on his arms and went right back to sleep.

“He had to go to a special school for the rest of the year. He missed a bunch’a grades so they’re tryin’ to catch him up. And...uh…”

“And what?” Mush asked when Jack went silent.

“He don’t always see people. Just looks right through ‘em. They’s trying to make him, well, not do that.”

“No wonder you don’t want us ‘round,” Race said, joining into the conversation. “That’s creepy. Is he cute, at least?”

“I tell ya he’s pretty much crazy and all you care about is his looks?”

Race shrugged. “No one’s gonna be perfect.”

“I have the fuckin’ worst friends,” Jack grumbled as he passed the last quarter of his meal to Race.

“I mean, is that news?” Race asked, happily grabbing the offered food and stuffing it into his face.

“Gross,” Mush said as he watched.

“No, but it does make me think I should’a gone with the the jocks instead’a you jerks.”

A muffled comment came from Mike’s arms.

“He says ‘you love us’,” Ike translated. 

“Sadly true.”

“So how long ‘til we can come over again?”

“A while, probably. I’ll bring some of Medda’s food next time, okay?”

“You’re couch is more comfy,” Mush complained. 

“Well I ain’t dragging that over, so forget it.”

Mush’s response was drowned out by the bell. They all gathered up their books. Ike pushed Mike off of his seat and they started to set off.

“Saturday, my place, then,” Romeo declared.

*

Jack walked into his kitchen later that afternoon to his foster brother doing homework at the table with his fluffy barn cat sitting on a book in front of him. He watched for a moment from the doorway, knowing the other boy was aware of him by the way he sat straighter. 

“This is a rare sight,” Jack said, grabbing an apple off the counter. “Spot Conlon out in the wild.”

“Shut up,” Spot mutttered. “Theys say I have’ta try harder. Be more social and shit.”

“Not surprised. So we get to see your pretty face more often?”

Spot shrugged and tried to get back to work, but Jack had other ideas. He grabbed a sports drink out of the fridge and pushed it to Spot, who took it without acknowledgment. 

“So, I may have told, like, half of my friends ‘bout you,” Jack said as he sat across from him.

Spot’s whole body tensed. “And?”

“I mean, Elmer really wanted to meet you, but I think everyone’ll stay away for now.”

“...What did you tell ‘em about me?”

“That you didn’t like new people and that had to catch up on some shit before you could join public school.” 

“So all your friends think I’m stupid?” Spot snapped.

“No, that’s not what I said,” Jack said, picking at the cloth on the table guiltily as he thought back, just to make sure.

“It’s what they’ll think.” Spot shooed the cat to pick up the college level advanced physics book she was sleeping on. “Pretty sure I ain’t stupid.”

“And they don’t think so. I promise.”

“Mmhm,” Spot hummed, not convinced. 

“Spot, listen…”

Spot glanced up at Jack. “What?” he asked, suspicious. 

“I’ve been pushing off hosting movie night so many times and it’s kinda unfair to the others-”

“So you want it back here. It’s your apartment. Why are you asking me?”

“Come on. It’s your apartment, too. It’s your _home_ ,” Jack reminded him firmly. It was a well worn argument by now. Spot was so sure he’d be kicked out, no matter how many times Medda assured him he was staying.

Spot fell silent for a bit. Jack had learned to just let him answer in his own time. “Do I have to interact with any of them?”

“Of course not. I mean, I’d love for ya to join us, but if you’d rather stay locked in your room the whole time, that’s okay.”

“...Fine. Long as I’m left alone. You’re friends sound exhausting and loud.”

“They are, but they’re great. And we’ll try to keep it down.”

“Whatever,” Spot said. He gathered up his books, then picked up the cat with one arm. “Me n’ Brook are going to our room,” he announced.

Jack waved at him. “Yeah, yeah. Too much socialising. I get it.”

Spot just let out a grunt before he stalked off.

*

Two weeks later Jack managed to get a bunch of his crew over. Four of them (Katherine, Romeo, Mush, and Elmer) lounged in the living room around the tv. Spot had disappeared the moment the doorbell had rung, taking his cat with him. Elmer, really wanting to make friends with the unseen boy, kept trying to wander away until Mush sat in his lap, pinning him down.

Race and the twins arrived last. Race looked tired and had a bruise on his face, yet he was grinning through it. Mush gave him a sympathetic look, but no one needed to ask what had happened. 

Jack waited until nearly halfway through the movie to pull Race away into the hall. 

“Again?” he asked.

Race shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Race.”

“It’s fine, Jack. I’ll bounce around a few days before going home. He’ll calm down by Tuesday.”

Jack drew Race into a tight hug. “Why don’t’ca just call CSS?” Jack asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“I’m seventeen. It ain’t worth the risk. I’m only stuck here for another nine months.”

Jack knew there was nothing he could say to change Race’s mind. He had been trying for over a year. “Where’re you stayin?”

“Stayed downstairs with the twins last night. Was gonna ask Elmer for a place tonight.”

“I’m sorry you can’t stay here, Racer…”

“Don’t blame ya, Jackie. There’s a lot goin’ on, and I ain’t your responsibility.”

“Race…”

“Jack!”

Jack sput around and saw Spot’s door open just a bit.

“Spot?”

“Come’re.”

Jack looked at Race, shrugged, and went to his foster brother’s room. “What’s up?” He asked as he closed the door behind him.

“Wanted to ask you that. What was all that ‘bout?

“Race’s da’...he hits him sometimes. He’ll spend a few nights outta his place, usually a night at the twins, one or two here, then one with Romeo or Elmer, then go home.”

“But you ain’t letting him stay here,” Spot stated, “because of me.”

“Yeah,” Jack admitted. “But you’re the one livin’ here. More important for you to be comfortable. He has other friends who can help.”

“No.”

“What?”

“He should stay here. I ain’t gonna be the reason he ain’t safe.”

“Are you sure?” Jack asked. “You don’t have to.”

Spot shrugged. “Don’t mean I need to interact with ‘im. And I got a lock on my door, so Brook ‘n me’ll be fine.”

“You didn’t even want my friends here.”

“This is different. Ain’t just for fun.”

Jack grinned. “Spot, you have no idea how much I wanna hug you right now.”

“You’ll end up with a broken nose.”

“Which is why I ain’t gonna.”

“Good. Now get outta my room.”

*

By midnight everyone had left and Jack had gone to bed, leaving Race on the couch. Spot had stayed in his room since his chat with Jack and only dared to leave once everything had been silent for an hour.

So at 1 o’clock he snuck into the hall and made his way silently to the kitchen, Brook at his heels. What he didn’t expect to see was another kid scavenging through his refrigerator. 

Brook let out a small rolling meow, startling the kid who almost fell as he spun to locate the noise. He looked at Spot, then down at the fur ball. “Huh. I didn’t know Medda got a cat.”

Spot glared at him, picked her up, and held her close to his chest, causing her to let out a small squeak. “Brook’s mine,” he said protectively. 

Race held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. My bad,” he said quickly. “...You must be the mysterious Spot.” 

“How could you ever guess,” he said dryly as he put the cat down and started rummaging through the cabinets. He decided he was too hungry to wait for Race to leave.

“You’re not going for leftovers?” Race asked as he watched Spot pull out a package of mac ‘n cheese. “I mean, this is _Ms Medda’s_ food we’re talking about here.” 

“No,” he said simply. “Hand me some milk. One of the individual sized ones.”

Race looked at him strangely before doing as he was asked. “Sooo,” he started as he put his own container into the microwave. “You can see me, huh?”

Spots face scrunched up in confusion. “What the hell did Jack tell you?”

“That you _don’t_ see people. Just, just look right past ‘em.”

“Jack’s an idiot. It’s called ignoring people. And the better you is at it, the less likely anyone will try to talk to ya.”

“He did say you didn’t like people.”

“That one’s true. But not the whole not seeing thing.” Spot ripped open the box and poured it into the boiling water in front of him. “I know where everyone is around me. Always.”

Race sat down with his now-warm curry “...That might be just as creepy. Hey, kitty.”

Spot looked around to see his cat headbutting Race’s hand. “Brook,” he said, looking betrayed.

“Brook, huh? Weird name for a cat.” Race gave her a scratch behind the ear before she jumped off the table to rejoin Spot.

“Short for Brooklyn. ‘S’where I’m from,” Spot told him quietly. 

“Now that you say that, she does kinda look like if Brooklyn was a cat. She’s friendlier, though. Than Brooklyn seems, I mean.”

Spot finished making his food, then hesitated as he tried to decide if he’d be okay staying. After a few moments he decided that it would be fine. The other kid hadn’t really asked the invasive questions he usually got. “She’s not usually. I ain’t seen her do that before. To anyone but me.”

Race smiled as he watched Spot sit. “I’m not surprised she won’t with Jack. I mean, who would want to?”

The corner of Spot’s mouth lifted just a bit. “He ain’t too bad.”

“No, he’s not. I’m just a jerk.”

“‘S’okay. So am I.”

“I like you,” Race decided. “I know you’re not a people person, but if you ever need someone better than Jack around, I’m not always loud and annoyin’.”

Spot glanced up to the bruise on Race’s cheek. He nodded. “If, uh, you need someplace...I ain’t gonna let ‘em use me as an excuse.”

“I’m surprised,” Race said honestly. “You don’t like strangers.”

“You ain’t a stranger anymore,” he pointed out. “Plus...you feel...comfortable in my head. Only Jack and Ms Medda ever felt like that...it took ‘em a month.”

Race’s face broke into a grin. “I feel honored.” It was only slightly sarcastic. 

“You should be,” Spot muttered into his mac and cheese.

Neither continued the conversation, and soon went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer comes, with cats, walks, and massive changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to do face casting: Everyone is Newsies!Live, except for Spot because he needs to look like ‘92 for all this to work Tommy Bracco just wouldn’t work. 
> 
> And thanks so much for the support. It really means the world!

Over the next few months, Race started coming over more and more. At first it was just when he had to get away from home, but it slowly turned into a regular thing.

Spot appreciated it. Jack was a great brother, really; he understood the feeling of being abandoned and of not trusting new places or people. He loved to talk, though. It didn’t have to be about anything important. He just hated quiet. 

Race also loved to talk, and could be loud and expressive when he did (He blamed it on his Italian mother). But he also understood the need for silence. He could tell when Spot just wanted company and always respected it. He also became attuned to when Spot just wanted to be left alone, and would go find Jack instead. 

Spot had be stunned when he noticed. No one had ever both respected and understood those needs before.

Race only asked about his eating habits once. He had noticed Spot only ever ate food he had opened himself. Even fruit had to be pre-packaged. He never touched any of Ms Medda’s cooking, and Race was sure that it was a fact she was the best cook in Manhattan. 

Race was watching as Spot unwrapped some string cheese one afternoon. “Can I ask ya a question?”

“You can ask.” he warily responded. If it had been anyone else, he would have shut the conversation right then. 

“Why do you eat the way you do. I mean, you live with fucking _Medda_! How-”

“Stop.” Spot wished he _had_ shut it down. “Drop it.”

Race opened his mouth to retort, but realized quickly it was against his best interests. He didn’t bring it up again.

 

“Do you ever go outside? Like, besides school?” Race asked one sunny spring morning,

“Yeah. Brook likes goin’ for walks every few days.”

Race abruptly sat up from where he had been laying on the floor. “You walk your cat?”

“Yes?”

“You walk you’re fuckin’ cat?”

“I just said yes, didn’t I? She likes it and...it makes me feel comfortable outside.”

“Does she get a mini harness?”

“Yes.”

“We’re going for a walk right now. I gotta see this.”

Spot scowled at him. “You wanna go out just to laugh at Brook?”

“No. I also wanna laugh at you.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Race grinned.

 

Race couldn’t stop laughing for the first five minutes. Sharp and prickly looking Spot walking a cat that was more fur than animal, wearing a reflective pink harness. Every time he stopped laughing, he’d look up, see them again, and break back out.

“Do you know how fuckin’ _cute_ you look? I think this is the single best thing I’ve ever seen,” Race said, taking pictures with his phone.

“You’re a fucking prick,” Spot muttered as a couple of girls came over and asked if they could pet Brook. The cat couldn’t care less. The girls smiled and giggled at Spot before he started back on the walk.

“Holy shit.”

Spot turned to give Race a questioning look.

“Both those girls were majorly into you.”

“They were?”

Race stared at him. “Seriously? You didn't see it?”

Spot shrugged and Race let out a whistle. “And people say I can be oblivious.”

“‘M not oblivious. You’s just imagining things.”

“Believe what you want, Spotty, but I know the look of pure infatuation, and they both had it.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you have all the girls givin’ you that look,” Spot said rolling his eyes.

“Rude. But fair. Chicks are always lookin’ at Jack like that, and I’s out with him plenty.”

“That sounds right. Don’t mean _you_ are, though.” Spot sped up in hopes of hiding his blushing from Race.

Race shrugged as he jogged to keep up. “Believe what you want. I am right though!”

 

The summer months brought in heat and more alone time for Spot, since Jack and Medda loved theater and he most definitely did not. 

Late one afternoon, as Spot sat curled up on the sofa with a book, there was a hard rap at the window. One of the twins (Spot wasn’t sure which since he had only met them once) was standing on the fire escape, motioning frantically to be let in. 

Spot hesitated, and finally compromised on opening the window just enough to talk.

“It’s Race,” the twin said before Spot could ask. “He showed up on our fire escape, which is normal, but his arm is fucked up.”

Spot’s stomach dropped. “And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Let us bring him here. Our Ma’s been willin’ to ignore the bruises, but this…”

“He’d be taken ‘way?”

The twin nodded. “Please, man. We need to move him quick. ‘Fore she gets home.”

Spot looked around, a nervous habit of his, as he tried to decide if it was a good idea.

It really wasn’t.

“All right. Bring ‘im to the door. Ain’t no reason for him to come up this way.”

The twin nodded and hurried back down.

A couple minutes later and they were all standing in Medda’s living room.

“Jesus fuck,” Spot said, taking in the mess that was Race.

On top of the bruise on his jaw, which wasn’t unusual, there were also bruises around his neck and his left arm was held tight against his ribs. The other…

“Is your arm fucking broken?”

“We thinks it’s dislocated,” the twin who wasn’t at the window answered. “...You happen to know how to pop it back in? We have no idea.”

Spot tried to look Race in the eyes, but he was keeping his tear stricken face down, looking like he was ignoring everything around him. “I’s only know in theory. Ain’t never done it.”

“We need to fix it then get him to the hospital.”

“No,” Race whispered. “No hospital.”

“...Best we can do is the internet, I guess.”

Race was helped to the floor by the twins as Spot looked quickly at the information on his phone.

After a few seconds of scrolling, during which Brook made herself comfortable in Race’s lap, Spot spoke.

“It’s dangerous to do without a doctor. We’s could fucking your arm up for good.”

“Better than the alternative,” Race muttered. “Do it.”

 

“I’m never doing that again,” Spot said as he finished a makeshift sling. The twins had left and Spot had moved Race to his room.

“Hopefully won’t have to.” The initial shock of the replacement had pulled Race out of his near-dissociative state.

“Medda ain’t gonna be happy ‘bout all this.”

“I know. But she’s good at respectin’ wishes. She won’t turn him in.”

“She should.”

“Spot...It’s not what I want, ok? Less than a year, then me and my savin’ are outta there.”

“If he doesn’t kill you first.”

“I’ll be home least I can. Just stay in the shadows when I’m there.”

“Race.”

“Can we please drop it? I’m in pain and want to sleep.”

Spot nodded, resigned. “Take my bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“Wait? Your room all night?”

Spot shrugged. “You plan on hurtin’ me?”

“Jesus, Spot. Of course not! Even if I _could_ use both arms.”

“That’s my point. So yeah. Much as I’d like to scare the fuck outta Jack with a half dead body in his bed when he gets home.”

“I could get down with that.”

“No. Now sleep whiles I heat up some food. You’ll wanna rest before dealin’ with Ms Medda.”

 

The rest proved to be useful for the storm that came the next morning. 

Ms Medda may have respected Race’s wishes, but she still gave him hell for the choice. Finally, after an hour of lecturing, she announced a decision. 

“If Jack doesn’t mind sharing his room, you’re moving in here.”

“Ms Medda-” Race started, ready to reject the offer. 

“I won’t take no, Antonio. Either stay safe here, or I call the authorities.”

“...If you’re sure,” Race said hesitantly. “And if Jack and Spot…”

“You know Jack will be thrilled,” Medda pointed out.

“‘Long as you’s sleeping in Jack’s room and not mine, I don’t mind.”

“It’s settled, then. Once you can, take Jack and get everything you need. Then you never have to go back.”

Race didn’t realize he was crying until Spot handed him a tissue. “You’s one of my only two friends. You ain’t allowed to be sad.”

“I’m not. Shocked, happy. Not sad.”

Spot gave him an unusually soft smile. “That’s okay, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up how to deal with a dislocated shoulder and pretty quickly went “nope” and decided to make stuff up. Because gross.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I feel it important to note that not only am I ten years out of highschool, I also went to a private boarding school, so have no experience with public. So inaccuracies are going to happen. Sorry bout that.-

Spot found the addition of Race to the apartment to be a good one. Race’s smiles went from fake covers to real pleasure and Spot decided he loved seeing it.

Race had snuck into his old apartment with Jack’s help and came back with a single duffle, and the twins brought hi backpack up from their apartment. Spot was determined never to let Race see his father again.

 

That promised lasted a month into the summer. Race had gone off on his own for the day (Spot wasn’t sure where. He hadn’t been listening). Dinner came and went with no word. Then curfew, and a handful of panicked calls and texts asking where he was. Calls to local hospitals and police station led nowhere.

Spot finally fell asleep on the couch, the first time he had out of his own room, cuddled close to Brook.

It was sometime after one that the front door was quietly opened, still causing Spot to jolt up.

“You. Fucker,” Spot hissed, getting off the couch. “We’ve been looking everywhere! You could’ve at least-” He stopped dead in his tracks.

“I ran into my Da. He’s not happy I left.”

Race leaned against the wall. There was blood seeping from all over his chest, showing easily through his ripped shirt. His face looked like it had been stomped into gravel and a large bruise was forming on his hairline.

“Dragged me home. Had ta wait ‘til he passed out to escape.”

“Fucking hell, Race, we gotta-”

“No. Don’t finish that,” Race snapped. “The answer is no.”

“We need ta at least wake Ms Medda. Youse bleedin’ everywhere.”

“Not everywhere. Just where the bottle broke.”

“That ain’t better!” Spot nearly yelled. “Sit down. I’m gettin’ her.”

 

“What did that bastard _do_?!” Medda exclaimed after one look at Race.

“It’s just a few cuts, ma’am.”

“From a fucking bottle!” Spot added.

“There’s no way I can convince you-”

“No. I just need some disinfectants and band-aids.”

“We’ll see about that,” Medda said sternly. “Spot, dear, get an ice pack for his head.

 

They were lucky. A few of the cuts needed butterfly bandages, but once the blood and few bits of glass were removed, it was obvious he would be okay.

“Isn’t there anythin’ we can do ‘bout this?” Spot asked when they were alone again. Medda wanted Race to stay awake awhile longer, and Spot decided to take look out.

“I just got too close to my old place Should’a been payin’ attention.”

“Shouldn’t have’ta.”

Race shrugged. “It’s life. You know. You’ve been through hell, too.”

“Wasn’t by my own blood!” he bit back

“...You ever gonna tell me what happened?”

“Probably not.”

 

The rest of the Summer went by much faster than Spot would have liked. He didn’t want to start public school. He hadn’t liked where he had been, either, but at least it was small and he could go at his own pace.

“I’m gonna miss seein’ your stupid face all the time,” Race said as they walked to the MTA. “Why do you have ‘ta be younger?”

“‘Cause that’s when I was born,” Spot said flatly.

“God, now I live in a house full of sass,” Race muttered.

“You bring out the best of us,” Jack grinned.

“Dicks. The both a ya.”

 

By second period the news got around: Jack’s foster brother was in _their_ grade. By third the fact that he was some kind of genius had been added.

“DId you know about this?” Romeo asked as he said at their usual table. WIth it being too early in the year for any other gossip, everyone knew what he meant. 

“No,” Race said at the same time that Jack answered with a “yep”.

“Race looked at Jack, betrayed. “You _knew_?”

“He wanted to keep it a secret from you.”

“Why?”

Jack shrugged. “Who knows. This is Spot we’re talking about, remember?”

“Speakin’ of,” Elmer cut in. “If he’s in our class, shouldn’t he be here?”

“Probably hidin’” Race said, more to himself than to Elmer.

There was a beat of silence before Jack said, “You should check the roof.Seems like someplace he’d be. Not you!” he added, grabbing the back of Elmer’s shirt.

Race had been staring at his phone. His text to Spot for a location had been seen but unanswered. “Yeah, I’ll check” He said, lifting his bag over his shoulder and rushing off.

 

Spot was curled up against the wall, his heads between his knees. Even from where Race stood, he could see the violent shaking. 

“Spot,: Race said, making sure he knew he was there. “Spot,” he said quieter. “What’s wrong.”

Spot lifted his head, revealing eyes red from crying. “Go ‘way,” he muttered.

“I’m not leaving you alone up here,” Race said, making himself comfortable next to him. “Things ain’t going good?”

“Everything is loud and crowded and I can’t fucking think! There are two many. I can’t track…” Spot trailed off.

Race hesitated before taking Spot’s hand. “I don’t know how to help,” he admitted.

“Don’t make me go back?”

“That’s outta my power. I can sit with you until next period, though.”

“What about your friends? Don’t you wanna eat with them?”

“Rather eat with you,” Race smiled.

Spot hesitated before nodding. “If you’re sure…”

“Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Certain main characters are missing. For a reason. If I ever get far enough you'll see why! Feedback is always appreciated. <3
> 
> Try my Tumblr: @akigriffin


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